


While You Were Gone

by brodylover



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Awkward Conversations, Destiel - Freeform, M/M, The Rapture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-26
Updated: 2014-01-26
Packaged: 2018-01-10 03:46:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1154481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brodylover/pseuds/brodylover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What could have happened in The Rapture, when Jimmy was about to leave, and exploring what would happen if Jimmy could feel everything that Cas feels.</p>
            </blockquote>





	While You Were Gone

The bed was cold. He was still in his suit, but that didn’t help much. It made it stiff and uncomfortable. 

He wasn’t used to sleeping in a bed, all by himself, anyway. Usually, Amelia was at his side and, for the last few months, he hadn’t been alone for any time at all. This was the first that he’d had any sort of autonomy. 

It felt wasteful to spend it sleeping. Castiel had kept putting him to sleep, he slept all of the time, but he was so tired. 

The door creaked and then he could hear it close, hear it lock. That was one of them gone. He opened his eyes, sitting upright to find his warden gone. Dean was still asleep, lying on his stomach, face buried in his pillow. That was good, he didn’t want Dean to see him, to ask him why he was awake. He could have said that he was up to go to the bathroom, but he wouldn’t have been able to escape after that. 

He pulled on his over coat, finding it to be in the same, over sized, shape it had always been in. How long had he had it? He didn’t even remember buying it. It had just always been there, had always been with him. 

He tiptoed to the door, unlocked it, then froze when he heard it. Dean was shuffling around, turning. There was a chance that he was still asleep, that this was normal for him, but there was the chance he was awake, too. 

Jimmy turned, holding his breath. 

Dean was lying there, eyebrows knotted together, forehead glistening with sweat. He was asleep, dreaming, and Jimmy watched, transfixed, disgusted in himself for his own voyeurism. Dean was hot, blush turned his face and chest, under his thin shirt, red. His boxers were tight, even with how he was lying, and he rocked his hips in his sleep, rubbing his cock against the material. 

Jimmy had done the same when he was young, a teenager, waking up to his underwear full of dried semen. He didn’t like Dean, didn’t like either of the Winchester’s, they were keeping him from going home, but still, seeing Dean like this, he felt himself shaking, could feel a hard, heavy knot, growing in his stomach. 

He had heard it, the thoughts and prayers, rolling around in Castiel’s head. He had felt the tendrils of emotions, when they were small and delicate, to when they grew into searing lightning bolts. He had seen the soul, so beautiful, even under the caked on terror and pain from Hell. 

He knew how Castiel felt about Dean, and his body reacted to the remembered endorphin’s, his own dick growing hard against his will, his own lips parched for Dean;s kiss. 

He didn’t know if the feelings were his own or if they were Castiel’s, and that terrified him. 

His fingers itched, his cock screamed at him, begging for touch, and he bit at his lip. This was his chance to get out of there, to find a bus and get home to Amelia and Claire. He shouldn’t have even been contemplating that perfect roundness of Dean’s ass, the way that he thrust into the sheets. 

But his mouth fell open and a small sound escaped. That was it, he was lost. 

Dean’s eyes darted open and he stared up at Jimmy, still standing next to the door. The blush on his face actually deepened and he pulled away from the sheets, grabbing a pillow and covering himself up. 

"Cas." he gasped, staring up at him. 

Right, Cas. Dean wouldn’t look at him like that, not little Jimmy Novak. And Castiel, that moron, had never seen it, had never understood. The look in Dean’s eyes hadn’t been there before, not when the coat was off. 

He shook his head. The glitter fell from Dean’s hazel eyes. His hopeful expression cooled. 

"What are you doing?" he covered, rubbing at his eyes. 

"Sam stepped out." he said. He noted the words, were they too cold? Were they too emotionless and dry? Were they too raspy? He didn’t want to sound like Castiel, he wanted to use his own voice. 

Dean fell back onto the bed, pillow still hiding his growth. “Probably getting a coke or something. Doesn’t answer my question.”

Jimmy licked his lips. He noticed Dean’s pupils dilate, his eyes trapped on his lips. 

"He loves you too." he said. He couldn’t stand it, he could feel it all of the time, but Castiel was terrified, didn’t know that that’s what he’d been feeling. Jimmy did though. He’d felt it for a boy in middle school, one with thick glasses, who flinched at the merest touch. He’d felt it for Amelia, almost every day since he’d met her. 

And now he was feeling it again, but he didn’t know if the feeling was his or not. 

"What?" Dean gaped at him. 

Jimmy walked towards him. His legs were shaking, weak. He was going to fall forward, he didn’t care. “Castiel. I can feel it, I can feel his love for you. It courses through me. He wants you as badly as you want him.”

Dean’s mouth was a tight line. “Dude, no, you’ve got it wrong.”

"You’re not gay?" Jimmy guessed, trying to hide a laugh.

"Cas can’t." Dean corrected. Jimmy went serious, listened. "I’m not good enough. He’s a freaking angel, for God’s sake! He can’t. He’s not even supposed to feel feelings or anything."

"But he does." Jimmy nodded, "And he does for you. There’s no shame in it."

"No shame in it?" Dean chuckled, "Yeah, okay, no shame in having a gay crush on a being of celestial intent? That’s coming from the fanatical body donor? I can’t buy that."

Jimmy sat on the edge of the bed, close enough to feel Dean’s breath ghost over his knuckles. He wanted to press those digits into Dean’s mouth, feel him suck on them, swirl his tongue against his calluses. 

"Angels were told to love the human race, to bow down to them, to serve them. Castiel may not always do as he is told, not completely, but he has done better at loving the human race than any other angel. For he has fallen in love with you."

"I’m so dirty." Dean covered his eyes with an arm. There was pain, self hatred, in his voice, "I’m disgusting and foul. I did the worst things imaginable."

"And he saw your beauty through it. I know. I’ve seen your soul too."

Dean revealed his eyes. They were wet. 

Jimmy took the chance. There was no reason to talk about it. He’d heard how bad Dean was with talking, had felt the aftereffects, the confusion and fear, the nervousness, things that angels shouldn’t feel. 

He bent forward and kissed Dean, hard enough to press him back into the mattress. 

Dean grabbed him and he was sure he would be pushed away. He wasn’t Castiel, he wasn’t even close, he was just a salesmen for adspace. There was nothing worthy in him. 

But Dean pulled him closer, pressed his tongue into him, tasted his tonsils, the roof of his mouth, the underside of his tongue. They explored each other, Jimmy’s hands finding their way into Dean’s clothing and clutching. 

"Is this okay?" Dean asked when he finally pulled away. He may have lusted for the vessel, but Jimmy knew he wasn’t Castiel. This love, this lust, wasn’t for him. 

"Please." Jimmy begged into his mouth, pressing new kisses to his lips, "Please. I know I’m not him. I know I’m not who you want. But what I’m feeling, his feelings, I can’t."

It sounded like rejection but Jimmy couldn’t say it, his mouth was dry, the tremors in all of him. He grabbed Dean’s hand, pressed it against his member, showed him how hard he was, how badly he wanted. 

"Oh." Dean moaned and he was fumbling, pulling Jimmy’s old coat off of his shoulders, his belt off from around his waist. "Put the ‘don’t disturb sign on the door’."

Jimmy pulled away, his cock now hurting it was so hard in his slacks. Dean had pulled himself up so he was kneeling on the bed and he was just as hard, a wet spot forming in the dark blue fabric. Jimmy didn’t want to leave him, but he understood. Neither of them wanted Sam to walk in on them. 

He did as he was told, hearing the zipper on Dean’s duffel bag come undone. When he turned back to Dean, his boxers were gone and he was on his knees and one hand. The other was behind him, a finger working into his hole. 

"Dean, you don’t-

"Shut up." Dean interrupted him. "Want that cock of yours so bad, been using every moment I’ve had stretching myself, imagining whatever toy I had on hand being you."

Being Castiel, Jimmy corrected in his mind. 

"Do you want me to?" he asked, not able to say the words. What was he doing? He was married. 

Dean turned around, letting him watch as his finger sank into his pink hole, lube dripping between his cheeks. “Just sit back and enjoy the show.” 

Jimmy couldn’t though, he couldn’t wait. He pulled off his slacks, his briefs, jerked at his erection as he pressed kisses along Dean’s cheeks, the skin there rough from freckles. His tongue darted out, licking at the lube dripping from him, adding the muscle to Dean’s finger, pressing into him. He’d only done this once or twice, but had thought of it, had given the images to Castiel in more isolated moments. 

Dean moaned at the intrusion, adding a second finger. His other hand reached back, grabbed him awkwardly by the back of his head, pushed him deeper. 

He wasn’t ready when he pulled his fingers out of himself, but he said he was, and his voice was so rough, so deep with lust, that Jimmy couldn’t argue. He let Dean push him back into a sitting position, tipped his head back as Dean rubbed at his erection, coating it with lubricant. 

He almost screamed when Dean straddled him, sinking down on his dick and filling himself with it in one motion. He was so tight, even with all of the practice he’d been supposedly doing. Dean moaned at it too, hands tight on either shoulder. Jimmy didn’t move, let Dean rise up and down, almost all of the way off of him before sinking back and taking all of him. 

Jimmy had never felt anything like it, was sure Dean hadn’t either, and he kept his eyes closed, not wanting to ruin the moment by being the wrong person. He could feel it though, the tight muscle. the soft tissue, the electric glide of need. Dean was clinging to him, threatening to break him, and he rode him until his legs were shaking and he couldn’t anymore. 

"Please." it was his turn to beg and he laid his head down in the space against his neck, "I need you to fuck me, be as rough as you like, I can take it. Just need you to come in me so bad."

He didn’t. He couldn’t. He didn’t want to hurt Dean. But he put a hand on either side of his waist, held him in place, thrust as deep as he could, slowly building up speed. 

Dean’s head didn’t move and Jimmy hated that, wanted to see the face that came with those moans, those gasps, the heavy breathing. The only thing louder than Dean at that moment was the slap of skin on skin. 

"Gonna." he warned, and Dean moved on of his hands, took his own cock in hand, stroked himself in time with Jimmy’s thrusts.

"Come on." he whined, "Come on, fill me up. Wanted to see you for so long."

Jimmy sobbed, unable to contain it. He was wrong, this was wrong. Castiel would smite them both for this. But still, he moved, a few more thrusts and he was choking out loud groans, feeling his penis pulse as his fluids poured into Dean’s body. 

Dean didn’t pull of though, not after he’d come. “Please. A few more, so close.” 

Jimmy was exhausted, worse than before. He got his hips working again though, pushed his oversensitive head through the trails of ejaculate he’d painted on Dean’s tissues. 

Dean moaned and bucked and thrust into his hand, body losing control as his eyes closed and a large spurt of come shot from him, coating his hand and staining Jimmy’s white shirt.

They stopped, forehead to forehead, panting. 

"Was this a mistake?" Jimmy asked, not looking, not wanting to see Dean’s face.

"Don’t know." Dean’s body slumped, his muscles giving out on him. "Ask me in the morning."

Morning, he’d hoped to be a few states over by morning. He didn’t care now, not when Dean was pulling off of him like it was physically painful to part, lube and ejaculate dripping down his thighs. 

What if Castiel was back by morning? Then they’d really know if what they’d done was as bad as it seemed. It didn’t feel like a mistake though.

Dean was back in position, almost asleep, lying on his stomach. Jimmy pulled his clothing back on before making his way back to his own bed. When Sam got back, he doubted any of them would be happy with the sight of the two men post-coitally sleeping together.

He watched as Dean, almost as an afterthought, pulled his blankets back over himself. 

"Thanks." Dean muttered, words muted by his pillow.

Jimmy cuddled into his own blankets, so cold without another body. “Don’t thank me. If I hadn’t said anything you would have stayed captain oblivious.”

"Yeah, well…" Dean paused, "I owe you. And uh… you were good. Really good." He was trying to get to something so Jimmy stayed quiet, not letting his usually sassy attitude get in the way. "Maybe… Maybe I can talk Cas into waking you up when we’re… established… so you can join in."

As much as Dean was probably blushing, Jimmy doubted it was half as bright as the red in his own cheeks.

"Thank you Dean."


End file.
